


Listen

by TheCobraOfHell



Series: A Little Danger [2]
Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, Panic Attacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-06
Updated: 2017-02-06
Packaged: 2018-09-22 12:36:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9607871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheCobraOfHell/pseuds/TheCobraOfHell
Summary: Saeran knew that he wouldn't recover overnight. It would take years in order for him to feel close to at ease- but the panic attacks were a little bit more difficult to handle. Yoosung finds out that listening is more just than hearing what the other person has to say, and it turns out he's really good at listening.





	

Panic attacks suck, they really, really suck. Saeran hated being sucked into that spiral of what ifs and what do I dos, but even years after Mint Eye, he still had to suffer with them. Even years away from home, he was still scared. 

It was silly really, he knew it, he knew he shouldn’t have to be scared of this or that, but try as he might, that fear would still trickle away, still eat away at him, and still make him fear for his life. Would tomorrow even come?

.

Things had progressed rather smoothly between Saeran and Yoosung since he had confessed his feelings, their days peppered with scattered pecks, playful pushes, and gentle whispers of ‘I love yous’ only solidifying that such a day was not a dream. It was new, and of course frightening, but this different experience was something that only brought a pounding heart and bated breath of excitement from Saeran. Even through their joy, they kept their relationship a secret from the RFA, especially from Saeyoung, but it wasn’t out of embarrassment or fright, but as a sort of game. 

“Let’s see how long it will take them- don’t you think that would be fun?” Yoosung was shocked when Saeran brought it up, a mischievous little smile on his cheeks as he suggested the idea. “Imagine their surprise when we finally tell them, maybe months later… ohh…”

“Why though? Why should we be do sneaky? Isn’t that a little bit cruel?” Yoosung had excused awkwardly, brow knitted up and almost a bit insulted that they couldn’t announce their relationship to the world. 

Saeran frowned a little, disappointed that Yoosung wasn’t completely on board. That is, until he relived, “Didn’t Seven trick you into thinking you had a life-threatening disease once?”

Suddenly, Yoosung’s expression morphed into a sneaky one. “Yeah, you’re right… let’s see how long it takes them.”

 

That’s how they found each other in this situation, sneaking off to be alone with each other, all while giggling like little children at the bewildered and halfway worried stares from their friends. Hell, Saeyoung was wondering if Yoosung was getting possessive as a friend, maybe even abusive. 

That only made Saeran nearly bust a nut laughing. 

So, the one day that Saeran had told his brother to drop him off at Yoosung’s place, and even told him to not worry about picking him up until the next day, Saeyoung was worried. 

“Are you sure? You’re actually gonna sleep over?” A part of him wanted to be proud of his brother, having a friend so close to him that he was okay with being alone with them for an entire day. Then again- with the way Saeran was avoiding questions of ‘what did you guys do?’ and ‘did you have fun?’ it was a little worrying. 

“Uh, yeah? Gee back off…” Saeran nearly spat, brow curled into a forceful glower. It was so hard to just admit it, just yell, ‘I fucking love kissing him alright?!’. Besides, Saeyoung would never let him hear the end of it if he did…

 

Saeyoung came a little closer, fumbling with his fingers awkwardly. He could never imagine Yoosung being abusive. Although more in the romantic sense, the idea of him hurting his friends was even more astonishing. He was usually so sweet, so inviting- but maybe that was just a facade? “Is he hurting you, Saeran?”

“What?!” 

The word comes out a lot more harsh than he expected, so blunt and almost in a growl, it shocks Seven into stumbling back a step. Saeran gulps, looking away. He knew he should just tell his brother what was really going on, how close Yoosung and himself really were, but when the words tickled at his lips… they were suddenly gone. And all there was left in him was a pit in his stomach. 

“Can you just take me over there now?”

 

The ride is thick in silence and tension. Saeyoung doesn’t dare to look at his brother, thoughts running wild and trying to think of what he could do to help. He had looked so offended at the thought of Yoosung abusing him- but what else was Saeyoung to think? It had to have been that, right?

And how was he supposed to help?

Saeran was thinking about something else entirely, wondering why exactly it was that he couldn’t just say… we’re- in… we really…

That apprehension, that fright of admitting it, that dangerous feeling. Saeran was feeling it again, but why? Why was he so scared to admit it? Why could he find it so easy to kiss that cute, blonde head of his, stare into his eyes, press his head into his chest and nearly fall asleep on him? And yet- he couldn’t just say that…

“We’re here.”

Saeran shakes his attention back, gripping at the small backpack he brought with his clothes and a few other necessities. He doesn’t look at his brother as he gets out, and he doesn’t say anything ether. He’s almost surprised that Saeyoung doesn’t leave with a parting word, something to keep him close, and instead lets him go (albeit, with a look in his eyes almost longing, almost scared). 

When Saeran enters the little apartment, he’s greeted by the scent of cinnamon and smoke around the entire abode. He was surprised that he wasn’t also greeted by the blaring of a smoke alarm, but it was rivaled when he shut the door and heard a loud yelp from the kitchen.

Yoosung pokes out, in an apron nearly coated in still wet batter and some even on his cheeks. He’s holding a pan dotted in dark clumps. “You’re early! Wait!” Saeran looks a bit perturbed, glancing around as if to ask where he should go. Yoosung scrambles for him, grabbing his bag and tugging Saeran by the arm to guide him to his room. “I- I was doing something just… just wait here!” 

With a few ushered pokes, Saeran sits down on Yoosung’s bed and waits until the blonde had shut the door before he’s snickering under his breath, only assured of Yoosung’s activities when he starts screaming about all the smoke. 

It’s calm then, Saeran sitting numbly on his bed while he waits. He realizes that he hasn’t been in Yoosung’s room yet, despite having hung out with him numerous times. And it’s exactly what he’d expect, the covers a mess, socks dotting the floor, a pile of school books and papers off to the side. It’s inviting and reminiscent. 

In another time, he wouldn’t have felt comfortable laying back into the bed, it was an invasion of a personal space after all, but Saeran couldn’t help himself now. He adjusts a bit until he finds a good position, nuzzling into the pillow and sighing. It wasn’t a particularly comfortable bed (as comfortable as a college student can afford), but something about it was comforting. The room is just a little too warm, warm enough to prompt him to take off his sweater and leave him in only a tank top. This leaves him laying back and a little discomforted by the fleece blanket Yoosung had, but still very cozy. 

It’s almost as though his encounter with Saeyoung hadn’t happened. 

Saeran grimaces and bites his tongue, feeling his eyes burn slightly as they threaten him with tears. Subconsciously, he reaches out, pulling back with him a soft chunk of fabric and nuzzling into it. The smell is intoxicating, and remarkably like Yoosung. 

After a while, he opens his eyes and recognizes the color, a light baby blue. Oh god this is his sweatshirt. He holds it tighter, just about shoving his face into the fabric and sniffing it more, indulging in the scent of Yoosung that it had. It was like he was right here with him…

“Sorry- I didn’t want to make you worried. I have a new batch in, so we’ll have to wait a bit…” Yoosung opens his bedroom door and is greeted to the sweetest sight, Saeran curled on his bed, halfway covered by his blanket and holding his sweatshirt in a death grip. The slight moment he has to look at him just before he sits up flustered, he notices the peaceful look on his face, eyes squeezed in a manner of near sleeping, cheeks a faint pink, this cute smile spread across his cheeks and the dimples they bring with them. Yoosung smiles a little, his cheeks burning. “Do ya… want to come out?”

“Yeah yeah, shut up. I’ll be out in a second.”

With a renewed energy, Saeran follows Yoosung back out into the living room, now clear of smoke and with a sweatshirt in his grip. As per tradition, they fall onto the couch and turn on the television to their favorite channel before shuffling closer and waiting for the commercials to end. When Yoosung glances down at Saeran, with his head on his shoulder and just about using the sweatshirt like a blanket, he can’t help the small laugh. 

“What?” Saeran, of course, gives him a hard glance, only his eyes peering up at Yoosung from underneath the fabric. 

His reaction only makes Yoosung laugh more. “If you want, you can wear it. You seem a little- cold.”

When the words pass his lips, he squeezes Saeran a little tighter, and then slowly brings his arm back so Saeran can make his choice. And he pauses briefly, giving Yoosung that same hard look, but eventually pulls the sweatshirt over his head. It fits him a little too well, only slightly bigger due to his small frame, and the fabric covering most of his bare skin was enticing and soft. Saeran shudders at the sudden warmth and buries his face into the collar a bit, reveling in the smell once more. 

Yoosung’s reaction is priceless. With bright red cheeks and wide eyes, he just stares at Saeran. Seeing him wear his sweatshirt is too endearing, too cute, and seeing Saeran merely enjoying wearing it was taking his breath away. Yoosung shuffles closer to him on the couch, head dipping to press his lips against Saeran’s cheek as they fall back to lie on the couch. 

The commercials were done, but they weren’t paying attention to the show. Yoosung’s kisses traversed onto Saeran’s throat, giving sweet little pecks as his grip tightens around his waist. Although the kisses don’t gain intensity, Saeran is pleased with merely being in the blonde’s arms and feeling his warm breath upon his somewhat cold flesh. 

They lay there for a while, Yoosung continually giving sweet kisses along the red-head’s neck, only escalating it to gentle licks every now and then, but Saeran appreciated every bit of it. For some reason, the feeling of those lips caressing him so gently, so thoroughly, and so lovingly, was more comforting than he could have anticipated. Eventually, Saeran was reduced to hushed hums, eyes closed and halfway dozing off, and that was when Yoosung finally eased into merely nuzzling into his shoulder and closing his eyes along with him. It was so easy to do this- so easy to be kissed and held like this. 

He’d stay this way forever if he could. 

Saeran sniffed a little, catching the scent of Yoosung and- something else. 

“Are the cookies burning again…?”

Yoosung screamed. 

.

They settled for ice cream instead, which gave them the excuse of cuddling closer to share warmth as the cold treat chilled them. This time, their attention was trained on the television, watching a recent episode of a cooking competition. Yoosung found himself muttering what he would do in this situation or in that situation, bewildered at how these people were making such trivial mistakes while he himself had burnt two batches of cookies. 

Saeran, meanwhile, was stuck with his thoughts again. Sure, it wasn’t as bad being at Yoosung’s side and eating something sweet, but it was still a little bit appalling to him as they continued. Do you really care about him like that? Do you really feel that way? He cares so much about you, he says it freely, why won’t you say it? Why won’t you admit how you feel? What is wrong with you that it won’t come out?

He had been chewing on the edge of his spoon for a long time. Yoosung only spared him a glance once a commercial break appeared, and even then, it was just to try to sneak a kiss, but he realized something was wrong at the sight of Saeran’s distant gaze. “Hey, you okay?”

Saeran shudders and looks away. He hated being seen like that, so lost, so unsure, and especially by Yoosung. He shouldn’t have to deal with someone like that, someone so weak, so lost, so unsure, so…

Horrible. 

“Saeyoung thinks you’re abusing me.” Time stops suddenly. The air becomes thin, and Saeran becomes aware of the coldness that envelops him. Yoosung gets to his feet, staring down at him with wide and scared eyes. And Saeran looks away, afraid of giving in to that sad look. 

Yoosung shakes his head, peering down at his hands curiously, no, that look is fright. “Did- am I…?”

No, no! Saeran shoots up as well, taking himself off guard as well. “No- no! You aren’t! You’re too good to me! You’re not hurting me at all…” And the last sentence he mutters come out, assured yes, but also taken aback, as though he were… confused why he wasn’t hurting him. 

Yoosung whimpers, the beginning of tears prickling at the corners of his eyes. Saeran doesn’t think, he doesn’t have to, pulling Yoosung tight against his chest with a hand landing in his hair, rubbing his scalp and keeping him tight against him. He doesn’t say anything for a while, just trying to hush the cries that Yoosung produces, holding him until the tremors begin to die down. Once they do, they collapse once more on the couch, watching as they enter the dessert round, but things are a lot less sweeter this time around. 

.

They’re not quite comfortable sleeping in the bed together. Yoosung blames a good majority of it on being that the bed is too small, barely fitting him, but they both know the hidden reason behind it. 

Saeran nestles onto the couch with just a pillow and an old throw blanket, staring at the ceiling as Yoosung dozes in his own bed. It’s hard for him to get to sleep on any particular night, but on stressful nights it’s even worse. 

That’s why he found himself in the early hours of the morning still awake, feeling cold despite the heat being turned up, and surrounded by something odd in the air, taunting him, threatening him. 

Then the questions begin again. Why won’t you say it? Why did you let Saeyoung believe that he was hurting you? Why didn’t you tell him? Why did you let Yoosung believe he was hurting you? Why did you tell him that? Why did you tell him what Saeyoung said? Why don’t you know what you’re feeling anyway?

“Why isn’t he hurting me…”

Those words came out like venom and choked him. The air was too hot, was too thick, it was suffocating him. 

Saeran kicked off the blanket and sat up, head ending up in his palms, frame trembling. This was it, he was panicking. If he caught it now, maybe he could do something. Water. He needed water. His throat was so dry. 

Before he knew it, Saeran was in the kitchen, scrambling for a glass in the cupboard, hands trembling as he grabbed a plastic cup and tried to fill it with water from the sink. It was so hard- so difficult to turn the little knobs on the sink. And even when he got a glass full of water, it was difficult to drink, and too warm to do much. 

 

Maybe there was something cold to drink in the fridge?

If he was having a panic attack before, this was something devastating. 

It didn’t hit him at first. Saeran opened the fridge and first saw a carton of eggs, open on the top shelf, it only had one egg in a middle compartment. He also took note of the empty jar of pickles in the back, only holding the leftover juice- and then the milk jug with barely a cup left. Saeran’s throat tightened, and his grip on the fridge door tightened. On the side, there was an expired jar of mayonnaise, ketchup, mustard, soy sauce, a variety of unopened salad dressings…

It was honestly, in Saeran’s eyes, a very simple image: the fridge of a college student. Something about this image was striking with Saeran, and he couldn’t place it. His stomach growled, painfully, despite having eaten dinner a couple hours ago. It got so painful, in fact, that Saeran gripped at his stomach and groaned at the pain, falling back against the nearby wall and slowly sliding down as the pain grew unbearable. 

“I love you.”

It whispered against his ear, and the sound brought shivers up and down his spine. The cold from the still opened fridge wafted toward him, arising goosebumps on his exposed ankles and arms. The cold stung him and made him recoil further, stomach coiling tighter and tighter, and then the searing warmth of his tears dribbling down his cheeks like molten lava. 

“You better understand that. I’m doing this because I love you. I want you to become stronger. How else are you going to survive out there?”

Saeran wept, his lips quivering with the effort to silence himself. His entire body shook as the pain continued to absorb him. Why didn’t Yoosung see all of this? See his weakness? His boney frame and thin stature? Why couldn’t he see his illness and fragile immunity? Why didn’t he hurt him over it…

Why didn’t he hurt him?

“Saeran?” The voice was sleepy and very confused, at least this time around. Warmth around Saeran’s side was shocking and a little bewildering. “Hey- hey what’s going on?” Yoosung mumbles mostly into Saeran’s hair as he hugs the smaller one tighter. 

Saeran sucks in a breath through his teeth, the whimpers in his chest finally letting go in one exhale. It all comes out in a flood of word vomit, the pitiful whines and questions. “Why do you love me? Don’t you see how gross and weak I am? Don’t you see how pitiful I am? How do you even love me? Why- why don’t you hurt me like you should- if you really love me- shouldn’t you be hurting me…”

In all reality, the words shocked Yoosung. It shook him to his core and made him really think about what Saeran was going through. It wasn’t explicitly explained to him, how Saeyoung and Saeran had grown up, just simply put that their mother was ‘a bit fucked up’. Maybe it was her actions that brought Saeran here, weeping in front of the fridge, wondering if Yoosung, someday, would hurt him too? 

That idea had made him sad, but also very angry. Yoosung wanted to punch that woman square in the face, or perhaps even better, make her go through the exact same pain that she had put her sons through. But he shouldn’t think of that now- right now, there was Saeran, held tight in his arms, weeping, scared, confused…

“Shh, shh. It’s okay. Here- sit down on the couch.” Yoosung helps Saeran up with a calmness and genuine gentleness that Saeran was not used to. As they sit, Saeran’s stomach grumbles, and Yoosung shoots to his aid, “Are you hungry? I can make you something.”

Saeran doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t have to. The way he is clenching his stomach is enough for Yoosung to get up and head to the kitchen again. Saeran sits numbly on the couch as the minor clinks from the kitchen hushes to the sound of boiling water and frying oil. 

Yoosung returns quickly with a bowl of ramen and fried egg. And Saeran eats it slowly. They sit there in the thick silence on the dingy couch, Saeran nibbling on the noodles with Yoosung’s palm on his knee. Eventually, the silence is a little too daunting, and Yoosung turns on the television to help ease their nerves. 

When Saeran finished his food and sat the bowl onto the table, Yoosung had finally decided to try talking again. “You feeling a little better, Saeran?” The other boy nods slowly, clearly just a little bit more relaxed. There’s still a tensity that he holds, one that Yoosung hopes he can help ease. 

“Want to snuggle a bit? How about in my bed?” It takes Yoosung a moment to realize what it sounds like he’s implying, and at that point, color is enveloping his cheeks and ears, and he starts to sputter. “I-I mean- it’s more comfortable in my bed than the couch, with all the springs and- and gee- ah…”

Finally, Saeran smiles. 

“No, I understand. Yeah, let’s snuggle.”

So Saeran found himself lying in Yoosung’s bed, smiling just the slightest bit as the humor of Yoosung fidgeting shyly just beside him had resonated with him. Even with his weakened state, exhausted from crying and empty from his emotions, he was still able to smile. 

He pinned it on Yoosung.   
Yoosung eventually settled next to Saeran (and by next to, we mean at least a couple inches apart, decency!), turned so he could still see Saeran’s bright, gold eyes. That little smile on his face confirms that he was able to succeed in his goal, and so Yoosung smiles back.

“Hey…” Yoosung’s gaze travels up to Saeran’s eyes, watching him intently as the red-head speaks to him. “I… I love you.”

When he says the phrase, the warmth around them seems to melt into something even more comfortable. Then Yoosung smiles, and Saeran swears he can hear his heart in his ears. “I love you too.”

The touch of their lips is soft and gentle. It doesn’t go anywhere, they merely break apart after a few moments, but the comfortness and the inviting nature of their bond is suddenly engorged with even more adoration and love- and Saeran just can’t believe he found something so good. 

Saeran closes their distance, pulling Yoosung closer to him by his pajama shirt before nestling his hands into the blonde’s sides. Yoosung had only squeaked briefly, soon settling into his new position with a hand landing upon Saeran’s cheek, playing with the soft strands of hair drifting near his jaw. His touch is intoxicating, Saeran soon finds out, as he leans into Yoosung’s palm and invites him to continue the gentle petting. 

He loves me. I love him. Saeran was pleased with these thoughts, very sure of them, in this exact moment. It made him wonder why he doubted before? Why- sitting in front of the fridge- he doubted Yoosung’s feelings. Not anymore- he was sure of it. Yoosung loved him. 

“Hey.” Their calm and gentle atmosphere breaks at Saeran’s very sudden excitement. Yoosung opens his eyes and looks back expectantly. “We should tell them. That we’re dating- in the messenger.”

Yoosung sits up suddenly, a big smile on his face, violet eyes shimmering excitedly. “You mean it? You want to tell them?”

Saeran nods and sits up as well as Yoosung pulls out his phone and opens the app. With a new chatroom opened, Yoosung pauses. “Should we just say it? Like- ‘guess what? We’re dating, lol’ or something?”

“Let’s send a picture.” Saeran’s suggestion is very out of the ordinary, very bold, and it excited Yoosung even more. 

Yoosung giggles a little, trying to adjust his phone camera a bit. “Us cuddling right? That should be enough proof.”

Saeran shrugs, his confidence and boldness building even more. “Maybe- or we could do something straight to the point. Maybe a picture of us… kissing.”

Yoosung breaks. His phone plops onto the blankets as he drops it, squeaking softly at the suggestion. After a moment, he moves to grab the phone back. “You- uhh- really want to send everyone a picture of us kissing…?”

The way he phrases it isn’t from unsureness, but for pure confirmation, wondering if Saeran was really okay with an outing like that. But Saeran nods, very sure, very determined suddenly. When Yoosung adjusts the phone again, capturing both of their faces in frame, Saeran’s hands do the work, gently grasping the blonde’s cheeks and holding him close as their lips connect. 

Snap!

They pause, their kiss connected now out of desire. Saeran’s lips move suddenly, moving in fluid motion against Yoosung’s. The hands brought up to Saeran’s cheeks pull him closer, and they slowly ease back into the inviting pillows, still softly kissing, still with bated breaths. 

The only sounds besides the hushed smack of their lips was the continuous dinging of Yoosung’s phone, still lit up and still receiving updates from the chatroom. He’d answer later, Yoosung assured. 

They were busy right now.


End file.
